Cityscape:
could she
be his venus?
could she
be his venus?
i wondered as they walked
arm in
arm down 8th avenue
on a
brisk, gray autumn morning.
he was
thin, tall, frail,
unkempt,
thinning hair the same
color as
the overcast sky,
a day or
two's growth of white beard
likely
added a decade to his life
in my
mind.
she was a
head shorter than he
and as
wide as she was tall
attired
in well worn clothing
clearly
selected for modest comfort,
her hair
the color of fall leaves
that have
already lost their color,
her face
a fleshy relief map
registering
lifetime of concern.
they
spoke loudly
yet
intimately
believing
themselves shielded
by the
early hour and the barrier of language,
speaking
of their grown son
and his
wife, of whom they disapproved
and their
worries for their child's future,
the man
listened to his wife
and i saw his bony hand
tighten
around the corpulence of hers,
he
listened as if she were speaking
words of
the prophets.
i saw love in his eyes.
AML
8. November,
2006
58th St, NYC